


Once Upon an Us

by anonymouscactus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Both Bucky and Reader are assholes sometimes, Don't they bring out the best in people?, F/M, Fluff, Some eventual smut, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-04-08 06:51:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19101940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymouscactus/pseuds/anonymouscactus
Summary: When your childhood best friend asks you to be her Maid of Honor in her wedding, you’re thrilled to say yes. When she confesses that your ex is the best man, you’re suddenly not so sure about this.





	1. Chapter 1

Some days you really missed city life. Sure, Port Angeles had a population of 20,000, so it wasn’t necessarily small, but it was nothing compared to the bustling life of Boston and its suburbs. Your job as a marine biologist had called you out here, where you could study the progress of Washington State’s Southern Resident orca population.

It had been hard to leave your family, but you made time to see them every year for more than just major holidays. Coming from a big family, it was important to keep in touch with all of them. You called your parents and siblings multiple times a week, your best friend almost every day, and your grandparents a few times a month. Cousins, aunts, and uncles also got phone calls, though not quite as often. It was hard work balancing a 6 AM to 7 PM job and still make time for phone calls, a social life, and keeping up with responsibilities at home.

Today, Port Angeles was quiet. Not much of a vacation spot, summers in Port Angeles tended to be laidback and relaxing. Tourists tended to flock to Seattle or the national parks, leaving Port Angeles tucked away in its own quiet corner of the state, though the city did have its own whale watching charter. 

You were stranded today, confined to your office to finish up a dissertation on the behavioral patterns of the Southern Residents. Instead of typing away at your computer, though, you were staring out the window at the water just across the freeway. Growing up in Boston had given you access to the ocean early on. You spent many afternoons after school at Boston Harbor, watching the boats as they came in. At five, your parents took you on your first whale watch. It was there you fell head over heels in love with marine life.

It had been a tough decision to move out to the West Coast, but your parents understood. More than your siblings had. Being the second oldest of six, your younger siblings argued against your move while your older sister understood completely, knowing you needed to spread your wings and make your own life. It had been a very tearful goodbye, filled with promises to call multiple times a week which, so far, you had kept. Skyping with your siblings always tugged on your heartstrings, but every so often one or two of them at a time would fly out and stay with you for a week.

Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you blew your hair out of your face and resumed your work, fingers tapping rapidly on the keys as your dissertation came to fruition. Beside you on the desk, your phone began buzzing. You glanced down at it, smiling when you saw the face of your childhood best friend.

“City morgue, you kill em, we chill em,” you answered, smiling wide.

“God, you need some new material,” Nat groaned on the other end.

“Hey, I happen to like my old school jokes, thank you very much. Congratulations on the engagement, by the way! I saw the post  _before_  I got a phone call, you bitch.”

“I’m not living that down,” she muttered and then sighed. “I really am sorry about that. I did mean to call you.”

“Nat, relax, I was joking. It’s okay, I get it.”

“Do you? I mean, that was pretty shitty of me and I was feeling so guilty because I didn’t tell you first but someone got a photo and posted it before I could say anything and—”

“ _Natalia_ ,” you stressed, cutting her off from her self-driven guilt trip. “It’s okay. You called me right after, so it’s all good. Now to what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

“What? Can’t I call my best friend without having an ulterior motive?”

“No.”

“Damn, you’ve known me too long. Okay, I’ll just get right into it. I’m asking you to be my Maid of Honor.”

“Why do you sound so nervous? Of course I’m going to say yes, Nat! You’re getting married!”

“I know, I know. We  _just_  settled on a date and I’m already so excited. But I feel there’s something you should know before you completely agree to be my Maid of Honor….”

“Uh oh, is it a themed wedding? Do I need to buy a giant top hat and drink tons of caffeine?”

“Ugh, I talked about that  _once_.”

“Still not letting it go,” you sang, grinning even though Nat couldn’t see it. “Okay, okay, I’m done. Spit it out.”

“Bucky’s the best man.”

Out of all the things you thought she’d say, that was not one of them. Silence filled both ends of the phone, Nat waiting with bated breath and you trying to reteach your brain on how to formulate words.

“He- I- You- What?”  _Very articulate._  “I-I thought he was still…”

“He moved back,” Nat responded quietly. “Are you…will you be okay? With this? I can talk to Steve, see if he can…”

“No,” you interrupted quickly. “No. He’s Steve’s best friend so it wouldn’t feel right for anyone else to be the best man. I’ll be fine, Nat. This is your day. if you want me as MOH, I’ll do it. Don’t you worry about me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you insisted. In the back of your mind, though, you were freaking out a little. “I can handle it. When do you want me there? I have a shit ton of vacation time racked up. I could use a trip home.”

“As soon as you can I guess? I have no idea what I’m doing and I need my best friend. You’re welcome to our spare room, of course.”

“Are you sure about that? I don’t want to put you out.”

“Nonsense. You’re family, Y/N.” You smiled into the phone, heart swelling.

“I’ll get the first flight out Thursday. Give me a day to get some things together.”

“Yay! Oh my god, I can’t wait for you to get here!” Nat wasn’t usually one to get squeaky, but that’s exactly what she was doing on the other end. You imagined her dancing in her kitchen or living room, and had you been home, you would’ve been doing the same.

“I’m so excited! I’ll see you Thursday, okay?”

“Okay! Steve and I will pick you up from the airport. Let us know when you land! I can’t wait to see you, it’s been too long!”

The two of you chatted back and forth for a while, catching each other up on your lives, before hanging up. As soon as you were off the phone, you tilted your head back and groaned into the open office. Loudly.

You loved Nat with all your heart, but how were you supposed to perform Maid of Honor duties when the best man was your ex?


	2. Chapter 2

You hated airports. The smell, the business of them, the fact that you felt dirtier and dirtier walking through one despite taking a shower earlier that morning. Logan Airport was no different, except walking out into the streets of Boston, suitcase trailing behind you, felt like taking a breath of fresh air. It felt like coming home. And in all actuality, you were home.

Nat and Steve were waiting for you just after baggage claim, and, in true Natasha fashion, she made a spectacle out of running to you and nearly knocking you off your feet.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she squealed, releasing you only to smack your arm. You made a noise of indignance, which she ignored. “It’s been too damn long, you bitch!”

Laughing, you kissed her cheek with an obnoxious mwah. “Missed you too, gorgeous. Hey Steve!”

“Y/N,” he said with an adoring smile, stealing you from Nat to hug you tightly. “You look good. She’s right though, it’s been way too long.”

“Well, you know me. Workaholic,” you joked with a shrug. The knowing look Steve and Nat exchanged didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you opted to let it go. No doubt you’d get to rehash those lovely details later.

The ride to Steve and Nat’s beautiful Marblehead home was filled with endless chatter. Mostly it was courtesy of Nat, who filled you in on everything you’d missed since moving to the West Coast. Sam met a girl who didn’t mind his clinginess, Clint finally popped the question to his long-time girlfriend Laura, and Wanda and Vision moved in together. Everyone’s life was moving on all at once, and the thought of that, of everyone moving on without you, caused a dull ache in your heart.

You also took notice of the fact that Natasha purposely left out any mention of your ex in her list of your friends who had major life events happen. Heaven knew you weren’t about to open up that can of worms and ask.

Unfortunately, Nat could also read you like an open book, and she turned in her seat to raise a perfectly tweezed eyebrow at you.

“Not gonna ask about You-Know-Who?” she teased, though there was a serious note in her voice.

You pressed your lips into a thin line and shrugged. “I can if you want me to, but knowing you, if you had wanted me to know, you would’ve included him in that list of yours.”

She gave you a look, as if you were that transparent, and you sighed. “Fine. How is Bucky?”

“He’s good.”

You rolled your eyes and pinned her with an unamused look. “Really? That’s it? You pester me about asking after him and all you’ve got to say is ‘he’s good’?”

“S’not a lie,” she reminded with a shrug. But the chewing of her teeth on her bottom lip belied her nonchalance. “He’s…Bucky.”

You scoffed lightly. “So he hasn’t changed in six years. Good to know.”

“Y/N.”

“Natasha.”

“You promised you’d try!” she whined.

“Oh I will try,” you argued, crossing your arms. “But he better have made the same promise. Otherwise your wedding might be a funeral.”

It was relatively quiet for the rest of the ride, broken only by Nat tossing out brainstorming ideas for the wedding. The real work, you knew, would begin once you were settled in their guest bedroom.

Nat didn’t disappoint, as almost as soon as your suitcase for the next week had been unpacked and shoved under the guest bed she dropped a heavy box onto the bed beside you.

“Jesus, Nat,” you exclaimed as you sat up. You flipped the lid on the box, revealing the piles of photos, notebooks, wedding invitation ideas, and who knew what else inside. “Wedding fever much?”

“Hey, a girl only gets married once,” she argued. At your raised eyebrows she added, “Usually. Besides, you know I’ve been planning for this my whole life.”

She was correct. Despite her sometimes surly appearance, a term you lovingly reminded her was a “resting bitch face”, Nat was a hopeless romantic at heart. From the age of 10 she’d been planning her dream wedding, and while her ideas changed as she got older from an elegant princess wedding to something a little more conservative and intimate, her obsession with weddings never wavered.

Thus, she accumulated quite a lot of wedding shit over the years.

Nat sat on the bed, the box between you, and began digging through it. She dumped a stack of magazines onto the bedspread, followed by a folder titled “Invitation Ideas”, and finally settled on her homemade scrapbook. You smiled a little at the memory of designing it with her. Printing out wedding dress inspiration, hairstyles, makeup ideas. It was all contained in that scrapbook, which Nat opened with a flourish.

“Remember when we first started this thing and we both wanted to have a joint wedding?” she teased, a sparkle in her eye. You rolled your eyes and nodded.

“Yeah. And then they came out with that movie Bride Wars and we promptly decided a joint wedding was a terrible idea.” The two of you laughed, the memory replaying clear as day in your mind’s eye.

“Oh dear, where was my mind when I printed this atrocity out?” Her manicured finger pointed to a photo of a dress with a mile-wide poofy skirt.

“I think you recently tried to channel your Little Mermaid. Isn’t that kind of the style she wore?” you said with a giggle.

Nat groaned. “Probably. God, I hated that stage.”

“Au contraire, I think you loved it.” She scrunched her nose and you laughed again. “Okay, okay, I think first things first, the invitations. Have you thought about how many people?”

“Not too big. Maybe fifty at the most. I like the smaller weddings now.”

“Wow, you really have grown up.” You faked wiping a tear from your eye, cackling when Nat pressed her hand to your face and pushed you backwards.

“Hey, you guys sound like you’re having way too much fun in here,” came Steve’s voice as he poked his head into the doorway. You and Nat traded a look and scoffed, giggling right after. Rolling his eyes, Steve shoved his hands in his pockets. “I ordered a couple pizzas. Figured it was better than cooking. You’ll get a first-class meal tomorrow night, okay?”

“Gonna hold you to that, Rogers,” you threatened, pointing a finger at him.

“Have I ever disappointed you?”

“Hmm. No. Not yet.”

“Well then, don’t count on it happening ever.”

“Uh huh. Okay, I’m starving. Why don’t we take these invitation samples and go discuss this with your future husband, yeah? That way I can make sure Steve keeps his filthy mitts off my pineapple pizza.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I thought you didn’t want frou-frou? This seems pretty close to frou-frou to me,” you complained, face contorting as you pinched the massive skirt of the first dress Natasha insisted on trying. First on her wedding to-do list was, of course, to find a dress, so the two of you, plus two of your closest friends Wanda and Okoye, headed out early this morning to begin the search.

Nat grimaced, tilting her head as she looked in the mirror. “I just wanted to make sure I was out of the princess poof stage, and I most definitely am. Let’s get me out of this thing.”

“I kind of like it,” said Okoye, touching the skirt with a feather-light touch.

The dark-skinned woman had been Nat’s roommate in college, and their friendship only grew after they graduated. She fit right in within your ragtag group of friends.

Noticing the looks she was getting, Okoye let go of the dress and sighed. “Or it’s too much.”

You giggled, patting her on the shoulder as Nat stepped off the platform and stripped out of the dress. It was a two-person operation given how massive the skirt was, but finally it was back on a hanger to return to the sales floor, and the group was dispersing to find more dresses.

It was made a little tougher by the fact that Nat wasn’t completely sure what she wanted, but she was open to anything and would no doubt make any dress look amazing. The next one pulled off the rack was one of Natasha’s own choices, but she was out of it almost as soon as it was zipped up.

“Nope, no way. This mermaid-style makes my hips look ginormous. What’s next?”

The third dress was an improvement from the last. An empire waist covered in lace extended down into a pretty skirt with a long train. It had thin sleeves and a pretty scooping neckline. Natasha ran her hands over the material, a small sparkle in her eye.

“It’s pretty, Nat,” you sang, reading the look on her face like an open book. She twisted her mouth to the side as the others murmured their agreement.

“Is it dumb to say yes to the third dress you’ve tried on?” she asked, voice uncharacteristically shy. You reached up to grab her hand, your thumb drifting over the back of it in comfort.

“Not if you love it and can see yourself getting married in it.”

She seemed to weigh it a little more, before sighing. “Let’s…keep looking okay? I don’t want to make a decision just yet and end up hating it.”

You exchanged a glance with Wanda, who then looked over at Okoye. The three of you shrugged and helped Nat strip out of the dress. She went through another six dresses, declining each of them before she was ready to leave and get some lunch. Over the meal, you and the three bridesmaids bounced ideas off Nat, who scrawled each one into the small notebook she carried with her.

“Have you thought about colors?” Wanda asked, spearing a cucumber and a piece of lettuce. She chewed slowly as she regarded Nat, who looked as if Wanda had asked her to choose between her two (nonexistent) children.

“Um, well, no?” she squeaked, face flushing as she dropped it into her hands and groaned. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s what we’re here for, sweetie,” you told her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “To help you decide. Plus, you don’t have to get everything done all at once. Where’s Steve on all this?”

She shrugged, sipping from her water. “He says to compile some ideas that I like and we’ll sit down and talk about them.”

Okoye sighed. “How is it you end up with perfect Prince Charming?”

The four of you dissolved into giggles before leaping right back into your conversation and planning. With the help of her friends, Nat was able to pinpoint three different color schemes for her wedding, which she would discuss with Steve later. Since she had all of her bridesmaids in front of her, plus her Maid of Honor, she opened up conversation about bridesmaid dresses. By the end of lunch, she had narrowed it down to long dresses, each of them in different styles to highlight her bridesmaids’ best attributes. She’d decide on a color once she and Steve picked their colors.

“So, Y/N, tell us all about what’s been going on with you,” Okoye said sometime later. The three of you ordered more glasses of wine after your meals had been cleared, not quite ready to leave just yet.

You only had a week with these girls until you could fly out here again, and you were going to make the most of it.

“You seeing anyone?” Wanda asked, not quite as slyly as she was going for. You raised your eyebrows and scoffed.

“With my work schedule? Hell no. I don’t have time.”

The girls exchanged glances, and fortunately you were an expert in ready them. Yeah, right, “work”.

“What?” you snarked, irritation rising. “I can be too busy to date.”

“Oh, yeah, of course you can,” Okoye agreed with a shrug. Seeing right through it, you crossed your arms and pursed your lips. “Okay, we’re just a little concerned, that’s all. You haven’t dated anyone since B—”

“Don’t say his name,” you hissed. “And I’ve dated plenty of people. Just none of them worked out.”

“Y/N….” Wanda sighed, looking at you warily. Your annoyance with them wasn’t hidden very well, and truth be told, you were sick of this round of questioning. You were fine. “Are you sure you can handle being around him again at the wedding? I mean, you guys haven’t talked in years. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Wanda,” you said through gritted teeth. “As long as he acts like an adult instead of a giant man-child, we’ll be fine. Why are you all so hung up on this?”

The three girls exchanged glances in front of you, setting off alarm bells in your head. “What aren’t you guys telling me?”

Nat sighed, choosing to be the one to fall on her sword. “We didn’t know how to tell you. Please don’t be mad, but we don’t think you should find out at the wedding.”

“Find out what?” Despite your rational side screaming not to, you felt worry creeping up your spine.

“Bucky’s seeing someone,” Nat finished, deflating like she’d just dropped the world off her shoulders.

“Has been seeing someone,” Wanda provided, meeting Nat’s gaze for a moment. “They’ve been together about eight months.”

It felt like you were underwater; all you could hear was the blood rushing through your ears and the pounding of your heartbeat. But why? You and Bucky had been over for years. It was good that he found someone to keep up with his emotional constipation and childish mood swings. Great, even.

So why did you feel so shitty?

“Y/N?” Okoye asked, laying a hand over yours. With her touch you snapped back to reality and smiled, though it was forced and tight.

“I’m fine, Okoye. That’s….that’s great, really. I’m glad he found someone.” Your voice sounded far away in your head. Looking around at your friends, you felt another spike of irritation. “Why are you guys looking at me like that? I’m not made of glass, you know. Bucky and I are over. Have been for years. That’s not about to change.”

Even in your head it sounded weak, but the force of your glare seemed to be enough for them all to nod and accept your words. Inside though, your heart was yelling at you that it was a bold-faced lie, which you promptly shut down before you could fall down that rabbit hole of heartbreak and self-destruction.

Fortunately, the others seemed to pick up on your sudden drop in mood and chose to shift the conversation yet again. Okoye had taken a promotion at her job, one which all of you felt was severely overdue, and Wanda talked about what life was like living with Vis. You commented here and there, but a dark cloud had settled over your mood in the shape of one Bucky Barnes. Thanks, girls.

At four, you decided to call it a day, and you and Nat hugged Okoye and Wanda goodbye before getting into Nat’s car. The ride was mostly silent, until Nat decided to break it.

“You can tell me, you know.” You looked over at her, hands at ten and two, eyes flickering between you and the road. “If you weren’t over him.”

“I am, Nat,” you sighed, hating that you were sounding like a broken record. “Even if I wasn’t, what’s the point? He has someone now, so can we just drop it?”

“Sure,” she murmured, reaching over to pat your thigh. Your lips quirked up at the corners, thanking some higher power that your best friend was so understanding.

Nat pulled the car into the driveway and the two of you got out, walking up the walkway arm-in-arm. You laughed at something Nat said as you entered the house, hanging up your coat on the hook by the door.

“Want some more wine?” questioned Nat, pulling two down from the rack above her island in the kitchen. At your nod, she poured you both hefty glasses of red.

“Honey?” Nat called, hearing the sounds of the television in the living room. You followed her, sipping from your wine.

“In here, babe,” came Steve’s voice.

As you rounded the corner to the living room, you stopped dead at the sight of the second body, lounging back in the reclining sofa, feet up as if he owned the place. Like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over you, you stiffened.

Bucky turned his head to greet Nat, and instead his eyes found you, wide and with warring emotions brewing behind them.

“Hello Bucky.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jesus, six years had done Bucky some good. His hair had grown out and he’d put on more muscle; the chest of his sweater was pulled taut over his muscular torso. His eyes were bluer than ever, and they were watching you with trepidation while his teeth went to town on his bottom lip.

“Y/N.”

Body betraying you, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up while warmth settled in the pit of your stomach. How was it, after so many years, he still had the same effect on you? It wasn’t fair.

Nat and Steve glanced at each other in concern, watching the two of you in case all hell broke loose. Your fingers tightened around your wine glass, and Nat had half a mind to think you were about to throw it at Bucky. But to her surprise, you didn’t, merely pursed your lips into a line and sat at the very end of the sofa, leaning your body away from Bucky.

“How did dress shopping go?” Steve asked, eyes flitting between the two of you before settling on his fiancee. Nat propped her arm on his shoulder, her fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head.

“It went. Not sure I’ve found the dress yet, though. Although, there was one that was pretty.”

You scoffed, drawing all eyes to yours, but only Bucky’s warmed your face. “It was more than pretty, Nat. I saw your face. If you don’t buy that dress, I’m going to buy it for you and force you into it.”

“I would love to see that,” Steve squawked while Natasha smirked. It was no secret that Natasha was stubborn as hell. Her red hair didn’t account for just her spitfire personality.

Steve and Natasha went back and forth for a little, Nat mentioning that she narrowed it down to three possible color palettes. You and Bucky, meanwhile, sat stiffly on either end of the sofa, refusing to look at one another. He busied himself with his phone while you distracted yourself by sipping on your wine. You were sorely reminded of a time when awkward silences didn’t exist between you and Bucky before things went sour.

To make matters worse, Nat and Steve excused themselves under the guise of starting dinner, leaving you and Bucky in thick, tense silence. Bucky was still thumbing through his phone, and you opted to do the same, tilting your body further away from him. You scrolled through work emails, shot off a few text messages to your friends in Washington, and tried to keep your mind from straying to the man sitting beside you.

“So….”

You jumped, startled by the sudden sound of Bucky speaking up. Wide-eyed and lip between your teeth, you looked over at him.

“How’s, uh, how’s work going?” He tried to hide his cringe, but he wasn’t completely successful. A glaze passed over his eyes, no doubt remembering times when things weren’t so goddamn awkward between you two.

But that was a long time ago.

“It’s, um, it’s going well. Came up with a proposal to the Washington government to reduce the frequency of salmon fishing. It’s affecting the Southern Resident population quite a bit,” you mumbled. Usually, it was easy for you to run off on tangents about your job, but given your history with Bucky, you thought it best to keep things short and to the point.

“Wow, that’s great,” Bucky replied, and you detected a hint of earnest in his tone. It made your chest ache. “I remember you really wanting to make an impact on it back at school. I’m glad to hear it’s going well.”

“Thanks,” you muttered. “Um, how about you?”

“Oh, you know,” he replied, “same old, same old. Still busy as ever.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Silence fell over the two of you for a while, as uncomfortable as ever, until Bucky snorted.

“When did it get so tense between us?” he asked quietly. His soft tone hinted that he’d asked it rhetorically, but bitterness sat heavily on your tongue.

“Probably has to do with the fact that we haven’t seen or spoken to each other in six years.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky winced, regretting even bringing it up, and you tried not to take the bait. You really did, but Bucky had a way of bringing out the petty, stubborn side of you.

You scoffed derisively. “Well, it definitely isn’t mine.”

“So it’s mine then?”

“You’re the one who didn’t want to come to Washington with me,” you retorted. A sudden rush of anger rose to the surface when Bucky smiled disbelievingly and threw his hands in the air.

“You gave me an ultimatum! What was I supposed to do? Follow you out there like some hopeless puppy?”

“If you were serious about us at all, then yes!”

“How is that all of my responsibility? What about you? Why couldn’t you have taken a job closer to home?”

Without either of you realizing it, you both stood up from the couch and faced off with one another, a few feet of space between you. Anger pinched Bucky’s face, eyebrows drawn in tight and body coiled like a snake’s. You probably looked the same way, fists curled at your sides and eyes blazing. Your voices had risen beyond acceptable speaking level until the two of you were yelling at the top of your lungs.

Feet pounded on the floor and Nat and Steve came skidding into the room, jumping between you and Bucky. Nat had her hands on your shoulders as she tried to steer you away, calm you down, while Steve was bodily backing Bucky up. Finally, you were forced into the kitchen by your surprisingly strong best friend, who immediately jumped down your throat.

“I swear, you two went from best friends to sworn enemies. What started that argument?” Nat demanded.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Same thing as always. Blaming each other for why we fell apart.”

Natasha didn’t look impressed. In fact, she looked mildly worried. “You guys haven’t seen each other in six years, and it took you less than an hour to start fighting. Are you sure the two of you can handle the wedding?”

Shame swept over you as you sat up straight and reached for Natasha’s hands. “Yes, of course! Even if he’s being a prick, I won’t engage, I promise. I won’t be that selfish to do that to you on your big day. I promise, Nat.”

“Okay,” she said, but she didn’t sound wholly convinced. You tried to school your features into an expression of determination and sincerity, and it seemed to have worked because Nat’s lips twitched. She broke away to grab the opened wine bottle, but before she could pour anything Bucky came barreling around the corner, phone pressed to his ear and eyes down.

“Yeah, I’m coming home right now, babe, okay?” he said into the speaker. He barely glanced at you as he walked by, and as his words sunk in, so did your stomach. “Yeah. Everything went fine. We’re fine. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

Bucky ended the call and you kept your eyes off him as he bid goodbye to Nat. Your jaw was sore from clenching it tightly, trying to will the slight breaking of your heart to go away. Out of the corner of your eye, Bucky gave an awkward twist of his wrist in a half-assed wave that you didn’t acknowledge, and then he was gone.

Once the door shut, you drained your wine glass, muttering to Nat about needing a nap before heading into the guest room. You closed the door behind you and fell onto the bed, threw the pillow over your face to muffle your frustrated scream. With the slight relief it brought you came another startling and troubling realization.

You were, in no way, over Bucky Barnes.


End file.
